


Signal

by MidoriKurenaiYume



Series: Neverending [1]
Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Betaed, Dialogue, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, sombre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9144967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriKurenaiYume/pseuds/MidoriKurenaiYume
Summary: After accepting an arranged marriage and slowly getting to know her husband, Lady Arturia had hoped to be able to deal with her new life without further problems.Oh, how wrong she was.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is very, very loosely inspired by the drama in eight episodes "Medici: Masters of Florence". Loved Contessina's character.  
> Gilgamesh and Arturia are very much adults here, and much more sombre than usual; their lives have made them be like this.
> 
> Title: if you have still any doubts - it's a Kalafina song (from the album 'Consolation').  
> Thank you to Yogarasu for beta-reading this piece ;)  
> And happy New Year 2017!!!

…

…

...

She stood next to the window, looking out without seeing anything. Her black robes were in stark contrast with her pale skin, which on that day was paler than usual. What had just happened a few minutes before hadn’t been helpful in making her obtain a healthier complexion.

Her voice void of any inflection whatsoever, she finally stated, “You may leave me now, Irisviel.”

Her white-haired handmaiden did not attempt to hide her deep worry, but did not dare contradict her lady. She curtsied and left, closing the door behind herself.

Now alone, Arturia didn’t move from her position, and waited. Her husband was going to join her soon.

They had come home together from the funeral, since the church was only a brief walking distance away from there, but shortly before entering their house, he had been called away by Princess Ishtar.

Arturia’s palm clenched at the thought, but she fought to control herself. She was not blind and she was not deaf – rumours had reached her. She had seen the pitying glances from the noblewomen, and the contemptuous ones from the noblemen, and she had heard their hushed talks. She knew exactly what the entire capital was whispering behind her back.

She wouldn’t have cared about the rumours, if she hadn’t had the wicked suspicion that they might be truthful – and the thought was gnawing at her.

She forced her hands to stop trembling and firmly grabbed the poker that her handmaiden had left on the table, and then leaned forward to put it back next to the fire hearth. She had just taken her place next to the window again, staring out into nothing, when the door opened and her husband finally came in.

She didn’t turn around immediately, instead waiting for him to come closer before slowly moving from her stance a little in order to face him. He had not changed from his ceremonial clothes either, but she could see that the garments were slightly out of place. As if someone had tugged at them, or rather taken them off him and then they had quickly and quite carelessly been put on again.

Arturia knew that her face was too expressive for her own good, but she had practiced a mask of stone during the past months, and she was confident that she was able to keep it in place even as she took in those details.

Since neither of them spoke for a while, she took that time to study his face, as looking at his clothes was only going to make her heart constrict in hurt inside her chest.

She knew he had always been very good in masking his emotions, and today wasn’t any different: his crimson eyes had only the hint of a shadow clouding them, and even that was hard to notice.

…

…

A little over five months before, an arranged marriage between the two of them had taken place. Arturia had always known that she was going to have to marry a man of her father’s choice, as she was his only remaining child, and she had therefore expected the day with foreboding.

Her future husband, Lord Gilgamesh, was not even civil to her the first few times they met, but she did not begrudge him for that, because she was informed that his best friend, Prince Enkidu, had just been murdered in cold blood. Since their parents had arranged the marriage and King Enlil – Prince Enkidu’s father – had been in favour of it as well, the wedding had taken place swiftly.

That same evening, she had gathered all her courage and, when he had not come to her chambers, _she_ had gone to _his_.

Her intention had been to talk to the man she had been forced to marry, to possibly learn to know him a little, and that was exactly what had happened. Lord Gilgamesh was still devoured by grief and, even if she knew she wasn’t the most capable at consoling people, she had tried her best. She had seen that he was not the kind of person who dealt with loss by trying to forget about it, therefore she had ended up asking him cautious questions about Prince Enkidu. Gilgamesh had told her about him, stiffly and guardedly at first, and he had eyed her with suspicion for the entire evening – but he had not shut her out, and she had been able to see that their talk was actually reluctantly welcome to him.

She tried hard to show understanding and sympathy without being condescending; she had suffered a similar kind of loss when all her brothers had succumbed to the fevers, and she fought to win her reserves as she told him about that. All she wanted was to show him that she understood what he was going through, and since they had been forced to marry, especially under those unpleasant circumstances, she wished to establish at least a basic form of civility between them.

She wasn’t sure why she tried to do that by opening up to him; perhaps because she thought they might as well try to make their marriage work; or perhaps because she had never had a friend before and wished to find one in the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

…

For Gilgamesh, it had been a genuine surprise to see his wife enter his chambers on their wedding night. It had been even more surprising when she had sat down and talked to him.

He had known that she was a sensible woman, otherwise the king wouldn’t have approved of the union, but he had not expected her to be anything particularly above average. Instead, he was taken aback by her firm gentleness and, most of all, by the fact that she was able to _understand_ the grief he was experiencing. She had asked him about his best friend, and had listened for hours as he talked about him, her green eyes grave but void of any unnecessary pity.

During the day, they both had duties to tend to, but during the night, they could get to know each other. A few nights later, he listened to her as well, as she talked about her brothers, who had all succumbed to the fevers, one after the other, while she had miraculously been spared against her will.

It was odd to realize that, right after losing his best friend, he had met a person who was worthy of being close to him – and this person was his wife. After those tentative conversations, Gilgamesh decided that he was not going to keep to himself anymore and when, a couple of weeks into their marriage, he knocked on the door of his wife’s chambers, he knew that she was not going to turn him away.

If he had been able to do as he pleased, he wouldn’t have spent his nights away from her anymore.

…

To both their surprise, it didn’t take too much effort for them to start to get along. It was true that, aside from their personal losses, they didn’t have much in common, but where they lacked mutual passions, they cared enough to attempt to show the other what they enjoyed in their respective interests.

By _teaching_ each other, they discovered that being together wasn’t that hard after all.

…

Within a fortnight, Arturia had the pleasure to find out that he was no longer keeping to his chambers, and every night they slept now in the same bed. While they were not friends – _yet_ , she always repeated to herself – they could live together quite reasonably, and even though they had many duties that absorbed their whole attention during the days, neither of them could claim they resented their marriage anymore.

And then… two months later, Prince Enkidu’s widow showed up, and everything changed.

Princess Ishtar was of a beauty superior to anyone else, and her manners were enchanting. Arturia had not liked the affectation she could see in them, but it wasn’t her duty to like the woman; she had been ready to be supportive of her and maybe comfort her in her loss, but she had been dismayed when instead all Princess Ishtar seemed to be after was Gilgamesh’s attention. Arturia found it quite the offensive behaviour, but she would have left it at that, if her husband had not seemed inclined to _reciprocate_ those attentions – and that meant that the entire thing was now insulting.

He had not stopped coming to her chambers, at least not immediately, and when indeed he did no longer show up to spend the night with her, she had tried not to let her mind begin to have foolish suspicions. But as time passed, whenever she asked the servants where her husband was when she didn’t find him in the house, she was told that he was at Princess Ishtar’s.

Even if she put every effort into believing that he was just being supportive of his best friend’s widow, she had not been able to stifle some unease at the whole situation, which only increased when she noticed that she was not the only one who was troubled about the matter. Her acquaintances, and recently even her servants, had started to give her glances filled with pity. She had made it clear, in her house, that she would not tolerate them, and she would have ignored those from the people… if only, _if only_ she had had the certainty that there wasn’t any truth in what was implied in those glances.

But every shred of evidence she had pointed instead in the opposite direction.

And then, as her husband spent more and more time at his best friend’s house and was more and more distant towards her, it became known that Princess Ishtar had been pregnant but had just lost her baby. No one had even known that she was expecting, and the gossip in the kingdom’s capital had been quick to get inflamed by that fact.

Arturia hadn’t even tried to avoid the incessant whispers, for it was useless. Everyone claimed that Princess Ishtar’s child was not Prince Enkidu’s, but Lord Gilgamesh’s.

Her husband’s.

…

…

As it was a lost baby of the royal family, a funeral was held, and it was from that funeral that Arturia and Gilgamesh had just come back from. They had gone together, and she had had to bring forth all that remained of her dignity to hold her head high as she was there.

On their way home, as they were walking side by side and with their arms linked as was custom, Princess Ishtar had approached them. Gilgamesh had immediately let go of his wife’s arm, telling her he would see her at home, and had walked away with the widow.

Arturia’s handmaiden had witnessed the slight as well, and she had therefore been hesitant about leaving her lady alone in the drawing room when they arrived home, but Arturia had firmly sent her away. She wanted to be on her own when her husband came back.

And now, he was there, in front of her, with his clothes tousled, just back from a ‘talk’ with Princess Ishtar.

Arturia was done with the whispers, the glances, the people barely hiding their pity from her; this farce had to end. She would not be mocked in her own home.

But before she could do or say anything, she found herself in her husband’s arms, as he pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck.

“I’m finally home, Arturia.”

She was rigid in his embrace, and brought her hands up to his chest, applying some pressure as her face remained stony.

“Let go of me.”

Her voice was ice cold, and he seemed startled by it, taking a step back to look at her face. She knew that her eyes looked much older than what her age could suggest, for she had observed herself in the mirror the past month and had seen how the suspicions and the bitterness had sculpted much sternness in her features.

She didn’t intend to give Gilgamesh much time to study her though, therefore she turned towards the window again, making sure to take a step away from him, to create some distance between them.

“Was it yours?” she asked, her voice sounding cold and disinterested.

She could feel his mild confusion at her words, and deigned herself to elaborate.

“Princess Ishtar’s child. Was it yours?”

She heard him take a step forward while at the same moment he exclaimed, “What on earth–…!”

But she turned to face him abruptly. “Answer me, Gilgamesh. _Was the child yours?_ ”

His crimson eyes were narrowed in disbelief. “Arturia, I know you’re angered–”

“ _Angered?_ ” Her voice rose several octaves, and she felt the mask she had so carefully worked to build during those weeks begin to crack. “ _Angered_ , you say? When the whole kingdom knows of your infidelity, you believe I’m simply _angered?_ ”

He was now in front of her, his eyes narrowing even more. “Arturia, what is this nonsense–”

She interrupted him again, and her tone was deadly serious. “I demand an explanation about the past three months, for you have been insulting me with your behaviour ever since Princess Ishtar set foot in this house.”

He scrutinized her, remaining silent for a while, for it seemed as if he had realized several things from her outburst, and he looked down at his clothes before bringing his eyes back on her. He seemed to want to take a deep breath, but suppressed the urge.

“If you’d like to sit down…”

“I’d rather stand,” she cut him off, her voice as sharp as a blade.

He had the nerve to raise an eyebrow. “As you wish, but beware that this isn’t going to be brief.”

Since her expression didn’t change, he suddenly took a step forward and put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her body slightly closer to his.

He was holding her firmly, so that she couldn’t shake him away, and he said, “Arturia, what do you know about Enkidu’s death?”

She frowned. What did that have to do with the explanation she was demanding? Seeing however that he looked unusually sombre, she pushed her anger aside – for the moment – and cautiously admitted, “Only what you told me five months ago.”

“And what did I tell you?”

If there hadn’t been a strange note in his tone, she would have thought that he was making fun of her. But he was very serious, therefore she searched her memory and replied, “You told me… that he was killed by robbers, who surrounded him as soon as he left the castle, and he was repeatedly stabbed.”

His crimson orbs focused even more firmly on her green ones. “Yet what else did I tell you about Enkidu, as a person?”

She had to ponder over the question for a few minutes, because he had told her several things about his best friend, but then her eyes suddenly widened and she stared at him in slow realization.

“You told me he was a master at using knives and daggers. But then…”

His short, grim nod was more than enough as explanation, but he put it into words anyway. “He was too proficient with weapons to be killed like that, even if it was four against one. Something was not right in it, and indeed, the physician confirmed that he had been poisoned. It means that _someone_ poisoned him before he left the castle.”

The look he was giving her was so full of significance that she understood immediately. “Princess Ishtar…?”

“Precisely.”

His tone was deadly, and she could see that he was making a huge effort in keeping his fury at bay. She herself was having a hard time fully grasping the situation, but all the pieces were slowly falling into place.

“But… if Princess Ishtar did such a thing… this means…”

Gilgamesh gave a short nod. “Ever since the physician confirmed that Enkidu was poisoned, King Enlil ordered me to find out the truth.” He paused briefly. “Ishtar never loved Enkidu, and only married him in order to become the future queen. However, she decided that she didn’t want _him_ to become king, and proceeded to eliminate him. I could not protect my best friend from her when he was still alive; at the very least, I had to avenge his death. But the only way for this to happen was for Ishtar to confess.”

Arturia’s eyes narrowed as she understood the implications of it, and she tried to break free from his hold, but he didn’t let her, for he could see what she was thinking.

“I never touched her nor did I allow her to touch me, Arturia,” and there was no doubting the sincerity in his words, “None of her charms would have worked on me, for I desire no woman but you.”

If she had heard those astonishing words a few months before, she would have blushed. But since she still doubted her husband, the only outward reaction she had was of her lower lip trembling slightly, before she gained firm control over her features again.

“I have had to work to gain her trust though, that is true. Unfortunately,” Arturia was taken aback by the _regret_ she could clearly read in his eyes, “that included detaching myself from you, for Ishtar hates you more than anyone else – as you are the only person standing between her and the throne.”

Arturia’s expression did not change as she waited for him to continue. Until she heard his entire account, she would not draw her conclusions, no matter how much her active mind was already coming up with possible explanations.

He sighed, and one hand left her shoulder to drop to his side. “I’m afraid you were not aware of this when we got married, but Enkidu wasn’t merely my best friend, he was my cousin as well.” He took a deep breath. “With his death, the person who is now going to inherit the throne is me.”

Arturia finally found her voice again. “…then Princess Ishtar wishes me gone to marry you.”

His hands were back on her shoulders once again. “If I had not pretended to detach myself from you, Ishtar would have tried to poison you as well, and I could not allow that to happen. At the same time, I needed her to trust me enough to confess her crime – the only solution was to behave like I did in the past months.” There was a short pause. “I wasn’t… aware of the talks in the capital, and of the… rumours.”

She took a small, short breath. “If you had told me from the start, Gilgamesh, I would have probably accepted it and suffered less. I wish I had known that you were trying to protect me.” While she wasn’t lenient with the tone of accusation in her words, she didn’t wish to insist on it any longer. She still had questions. “What is going to happen to Princess Ishtar now?”

He seemed to want to smirk, but held it back. “She was arrested a few minutes ago.”

Arturia was surprised, and Gilgamesh pulled her a little closer. “As much as it was cruel of me to leave you as we were walking home, it was what convinced Ishtar that I would finally forsake you. In her satisfaction, she admitted that she was never actually with child and therefore lied about her loss, and boasted it was a happy day when Enkidu –” his grip became firmer, and Arturia knew he wished he could clench his fists, “– when Enkidu was persuaded to drink some extra wine before leaving the castle.”

“You told me that Enkidu _despised_ wine, of any kind,” Arturia interrupted him, realizing what he was saying.

Gilgamesh’s face contracted again, pain flashing through his features, as he nodded once more. “Exactly. That was enough as a confession. But when I had the guards enter the house to arrest her, she struggled.” He indicated his still slightly tousled clothes. “She fiercely tried to use me as a human shield, but her attempts were unsuccessful.”

Arturia remained silent for a brief while, thinking about what she had just found out. Then she slowly relaxed in his grip, and quietly murmured, “I don’t know her, and she deserves to be executed, but she seems the kind of woman who will not accept to face that kind of fate. As poisons seem to be her field of expertise, it may be likely that she will want to end her life herself.”

There was no compassion in Gilgamesh’s eyes as he finally released her but did not take any steps away from her. “It will not be a loss, _by any means_.”

She surprised him by coming slightly closer to him. Her face was serious. “Not many people know what Princess Ishtar is guilty of, isn’t that correct?”

Even if he didn’t know where she was going with that question, he nodded once in confirmation, and she continued, her tone strangely very gentle, “Then perhaps there is no need to let everyone know the truth.”

He was incredulous. “You would want to save that woman’s reputation?”

She shook her head firmly. “Not at all. My intention would be to save _Prince Enkidu’s_. You told me that he loved his wife, in spite of her cruelty, and we know that she is almost certainly going to take her life to avoid the public trial. There is no need to taint your best friend’s memory by officially branding his wife as a murderess. As for the rumours regarding your unfaithfulness,” she exhaled slightly, “I believe the matter is now settled.”

He actually raised an eyebrow at that, as he had not forgotten her outburst at the beginning of their conversation, and she produced a small smile as she clarified, “I am content in knowing the truth myself, and now the false whispers can’t affect me anymore.”

For the second time that day, she was in his arms, but now his lips were on hers, very careful and very chaste, yet they still managed to be more eloquent than any amount of words.

She truly relaxed then, leaning into his embrace, and stared up into his eyes when they separated.

“I’m glad you’re finally home, Gilgamesh,” she said quietly, answering to his words from earlier, and stood on her tiptoes to bring up her arms around his neck and press her lips to his again.

His arms firmly pulled her even closer to him, and the kiss deepened as he held her more securely. However, it looked like he was holding her a little too tightly, for she suddenly flinched in his grasp and he immediately loosened it.

With barely hidden concern marring his features at her odd reaction, he brought up his hand to caress her cheek carefully.

“What is the matter, Arturia?”

He seemed even more alarmed when her arms retracted from him, but was mildly reassured by her smile. Her hands came down to rest on her own body, a little lower than her stomach.

“Princess Ishtar lied about being with child – but I do not,” she revealed, her voice gentler than usual but still firm in telling him the news.

His eyes flickered down but came immediately back up to her face again, and he was at a loss for words for a few, long seconds.

Then he finally said, “If I had the intention of bringing you offence, I would ask you if the child is mine, but I know you are not a woman to be doubted, my sweet Arturia.”

He pulled her to him again, kissing her on the lips with more passion. “I promise you, Arturia,” his thumbs were tracing circles on her cheeks, “that I will never again give you reason to doubt _me_.”

For all answer, she kissed him back. Even though it surprised her a little to realize it, she could not deny that she had missed this kind – or rather, _any_ kind – of intimacy she had previously had with her husband. And she had an inkling, from the light she could see in his darkened crimson orbs, that he had missed it as well.

A little more seriously, she then pulled back a little to remind him, “You did not comment on this development though.”

He leaned forward, kissing her forehead before bringing his lips down on hers again. “While this is unexpected, it’s the best kind of news I could wish for. And even if the king doesn’t expect any new heirs any time soon, I am persuaded he will change his mind.”

“Are you certain?” she asked, a faint, playful hint of emotion in her voice.

Her green eyes didn’t look away from his crimson ones for even a second, for his sudden smile, directed at her, brought finally true brightness back onto her face, after so much time spent in suspicion and worry.

“Of course – even King Enlil’s difficult temper can become bearable, as long as I know that you stand by my side, Arturia.”

...

…

…


End file.
